Challenge Accepted
by Crush-Chan17
Summary: Having endured years of abuse, overly hyper friends, and winning his most difficult beybattle over Brooklyn, Kai is certain he can overcome anything. That is, until the BBA wants him and Tyson to be their promoting Tag Team for a year long string of tournaments across the globe. The challenge? Living with Tyson and his bad habits.
1. Handheld Devices

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Beyblade (or Pokemon as it is reffed here), unfortunately. If I did, the original cast would still be around.**_

_**Author's Note: I love Beyblade. I had fallen out of the fandom for a long while, but then my cousin the other day mentioned how when we were kids we'd roleplay this series (and believe it or not, I actually got introduced to this site because of Beyblade) and I randomly decided to watch a few episodes. Well, my love for the series came back with a passion. I even fell for Tyson's character and his and Kai's dynamics (both platonic and romantic). Though I highly doubt this will ever be yaoi (they are the first yaoi couple I actually like, though I have long since supported KaiHil), though I do plan on having a few awkward moments between them for humor. (;**_

_****Additional Notes: everyone pretty much looks like they did in G-Rev since this is just a year later (you can imagine their outfits how you want). There are few exceptions though: Hilary's hair is just past her shoulders, Kai's eyes are crimson and Tyson's are blue, and they are all a tad bit taller. Not much though.**_

_**Rating: T for bad language and violence (I'm sure you all have heard it before!).**_

* * *

_**- CHAPTER ONE: HANDHELD DEVICES -**_

_**(Please read the additional notes section above!)**_

* * *

It is not uncommon for Kai Hiwatari to regret certain decisions he makes. Especially when it involves his beyblading career, in which he will admit that he has committed a multitude of mistakes. Betraying his friends for instance is one and attempting to join the BEGA League is another.

But today, as he sits on a private plane issued to transport him and one Tyson Granger, from their homeland of Japan to England for a beyblade tournament by the Beyblade Association (the BBA), Kai's certain that he has made the grandest mistake of his life yet. He spares a glance at the boy sitting across the aisle from him, a big grin plastered on his face as his sapphire eyes focus on the small device in his hands while his thumbs smash sporadically at the buttons on its plastic surface.

"Yeah, that's it Pikachu!" he screeches suddenly and stands in his seat, causing an involuntary twitch from Kai. If only Kenny and Hilary had not been forced to ride a public plane. If they were here, then Tyson would not be playing his damn handheld that usually results in the blunette's nerves blown all to hell, and instead would be indulging in small talk. He internally curses Max Tate for supplying the sixteen-year-old with the toy that prior Christmas.

"_NO! **STUPID** VULPIX!_" he explodes as if on cue. Kai's eye then twitches and he slaps a gloved hand against his face, his teeth grinding together. Why is it so difficult for Tyson to be quiet? Why? His innocent gaze hardens into a glare, but Tyson does not seem to notice. How could he? He is too wrapped into that childish game.

Tyson's eyes have become blood-shot at this point and every muscle in his body is tense, his thumbs still pounding mercilessly away at the buttons. If their other teammate, Ray Kon, had been here, he would have been trying to get Tyson to calm down. And Max? He would be enraged at the device's poor treatment, probably screaming in a frantic voice, "That cost me two-hundred dollars, meanie!"

Naturally, Tyson-being-Tyson, and that means being a sore loser with little-to-no patience and an abundance of determination and stubbornness, he would just drown out Max's words and continue to wither down the system's internal core until something broke. Which Kai suspects will happen sooner rather than later. Which will be fine in his book, seeing as how he and Tyson are going to be spending practically every day together for a year. His stomach clenches, the implications of his thought hitting him like a ton of bricks in the face. Hard.

A whole year with Tyson? He gulps, certain that bile is rising up in his throat, because the reality of those words have made him beyond sick.

"RARRRRR!" Tyson bellows, snapping Kai out of his internal turmoil. The teen then starts hammering the buttons again, now in a crouched position in his seat. Kai has half the mind to say something, but conduces that he will not play the role of babysitter. "I will_ DESTROY_ you! Go Snorlax!"

After that silence ensues and Kai's breaths a sigh of relief when it continues on for a couple of minutes. Perhaps now, Tyson will put his game away and take a nap. He does like to sleep after all. And that will be the perfect opportunity for Kai to gather his wits. Right? Yes. He relaxes into his seat, head turning to the side to peer out the window -

"Noooooo! Impossible!"

Kai jerks from his slightly relaxed state and shoots another ignored crimson glare in Tyson's direction. "All I have left is Magikarp?! I'm SCREWEDDD!" he cries out in frustration, his head tossed back. "Use splash! But . . . nothing happens. Fackkk, you useless fish! Why can't you at least have 'headbutt' as an attack?!"

_Why can't you have a mute button?_ Kai thinks, crossing his arms. Tyson pauses and shifts his azure gaze onto him, a displeased scowl in-tact. Had he said that aloud? "Shut it, Kai. I bet _you_ couldn't beat this." Apparently he has. Not that it really matters.

He shrugs in response. "Not interested in trying either."

Tyson smirks and says in the most condescending tone that he can muster, because he knows that it always gets under Kai's skin: "Because you're scared that you'll lose."

"We'll see about that." Kai seethes - even though he knows he is being baited - then promptly stands, and rushes to the two seated row that Tyson is in and snatches the handheld device from the other teenager's hands. He then takes the seat next to the blunette, not even caring when his billowing scarf slaps Tyson across the face as he does so, and glares at the screen.

"I already got the battle set up, you just choose from the options menu at the bottom of the screen." the young World Champ explains calmly, "It's a gym leader battle, so it isn't going to be easy."

After that, Tyson just leans back against his seat, his arms crossed, a knowing smirk on his face. Now just to sit back, relax, and enjoy Kai's impending embarrassment.

But . . .

A moment later Kai has won the battle - and by pure chance as he had no clue about the game's set-up. He went on assumption and tried to pair what elemental pokemon was the weakness of the opposing pokemon. After switching a few times in order to figure out the capabilities of all his pokemon, he used a semi-low leveled Squirtle to take out a fiery Vulpix, followed by a quick change to his Pikachu to take out an odd-looking serpent called Gyarados, and finally, he switched to Quilava to snag the win against the leaf manipulating Chikorita.

He did notice that all of Tyson's pokemon are about ten levels lower than the opposing force's. He isn't the gaming type like his friend, but did you not have to spend long periods of time leveling your characters up? That's the impression he has always been under anyways . . .

And why has Tyson not commented on his overwhelming defeat? He had just been throwing a monstrosity of a fit about the game just minutes ago. He glances over at the other boy and isn't surprised to see a look of muted surprise adorning his features - slack jaw, wide eyes, and reddening cheeks (probably from rage and jealousy that his rival, with no gaming experience, just beat a fight he was struggling so badly with).

"Beginner's luck . . ." he mutters finally, taking back his handheld game, pressing a few buttons, then turning it off and shoving it back into the depths of his jean's pocket. The dual-haired teen beside him smirks.

The current score?

Kai: 1

Tyson: 0

* * *

The new Tag Team Beyblade World Championship is kicking off in Russia this year. Then to China, Australia, United States, Spain, England, and many more. According to Mr. Dickinson, this is the biggest World Championship to ever occur. There have been so many competitors stepping up, that they had to expand to other countries. Not to mention how much more of a profit the BBA will make as a result.

To make it even more interesting, and to grasp the attention of an even more expansive audience, the BBA has divided the tournaments into age divisions - five to eight, nine to eleven, twelve to fourteen, fifteen to eighteen, and finally, nineteen to forty. Each group only battles those in their age divisions until the end, when they've narrowed it down to the toughest, where they will then fight amongst themselves for claims over the title of Beyblade Tag Team World Champions.

Tyson has to admit, he likes the new rules. It means that he can beyblade past the age of eighteen and actually make a living. He's certain the other members of The G-Revolutions feel the same. Blading means so much to them all. He smiles as he peers out the window of his and Kai's hotel, his midnight blue stare focusing on the snow-clad streets below.

He and Diachi are the defending champs, but they are split this year (he is partnered with Max), not that he minds. He always has wanted to be on a tag team with his best friend and rival - with Kai. He tilts his head to the side and steals a peek across the rather bare beige and white themed room to the bed closest to the door where Kai lays with his arms tucked beneath his head, eyelids shut.

Typical Kai for you.

The world champ then averts his attention onto the sole object for sitting in the room - a couch that looks a _little too broke in_, being sunken in a few spots, that sits in front of a flat-screen television. He has all the intentions in the world to watch television later, but since the BBA have Kai and him on a day-ahead schedule, the two of them have a meeting to go to soon (which is the reason behind Kenny and Hilary having to ride a separate plane).

Apparently Mr. Dickinson wants him and Kai to speak on live television before each tournament begins. He can already imagine Kai with a microphone. The thought causes him to snicker and earn a raised eyebrow from his teammate.

"What's so funny?"

Tyson raises a gloved hand to his mouth to suppress his chuckle and answers: "The thought of us introducing each tournament on nation television."

The corners of Kai's lips tug down into a sharp frown - and Tyson knows he is not too happy with the prospect - and he says: "Tch, I think you'll do enough talking for the both of us. Loud mouth."

Tyson blinks, the smirk quickly dropping from his face. He shakes a fist at the former team captain. "Well, if you'd get that stick out of your ass maybe you could talk too, Mr. Sourpuss!"

Kai sits up on his designated bed, dropping one leg to the floor while the other remains tucked up close to his chest. His narrowed blood-red irises effectively convey his opinion of Tyson's statement - he does not like it. And just as he goes to open his mouth with a witty remark about to roll off the tip of his tongue, a rapid rapping against their hotel door catches their attention.

"I wonder who that could be?" Tyson mumbles, receiving no verbal response from his teammate who gets to his feet in a swift motion and approaches the door. He watches intently as Kai makes quick work of the deadbolt and the other locks before giving a tug on the doorknob. A moment later they are greeted by the sight of Max, Diachi, and Ray. "HEY! What are you guys doing here?!"

Kai steps to the side to let the three in, a headache already coming on.

"Well, Mr. D wants us three to be the ones that talk at the closing of each tournament - since you and Kai are opening them." Max explains, bouncing over to Dragoon's wielder and embracing him tightly. Ray and Diachi go to the circular wooden table in the center of the room and drop off a few plastic bags in the meanwhile.

"That's awesome!" Tyson trills, pulling away from the American-Japanese. How he had missed his blonde friend! When together, the two just feed off the other's energy. Which, for the other members of the team, isn't always a good thing.

"Yeah, you can't have all the glory, Tyson!" Diachi howls, approaching the world champ with a large grin that reaches his emerald gaze. Tyson feels his smirk return and ruffles Diachi's flaming red hair - he _is_ considerably shorter - causing the younger boy to swat at his hands, clearly irritated by the patronizing action.

"We brought pizza and movies by the way." Ray interjects calmly, pointing towards food on the table. Tyson's mouth instantly salivates and he's certain that he has whiplash now from the sharp jerking motion his neck just executed to get a visual on the pizza boxes. Not that he cares - he and Kai have not ate since they left for Russia and that sandwich he had on the plane had expired a long time ago (ham is not suppose to be crunchy!). He pounces for the table, more excited than a kid on Christmas.

* * *

Three hours later and the members of The G-Revolutions are now relaxing - they had just gotten back from that pointless meeting over their duties as personal representatives and promoters of the BBA. Well, Kai is sitting on the bed, relaxing, while Tyson and the others are preoccupying the couch, watching some action movie with bad acting. Occasionally they will make a few comments, or Diachi will insult Tyson and another round of arguing will ensue, but then they will simmer down and continue watching. Though, Kai wishes they'd leave already.

He glances at the clock that resides on the wooden nightstand between his and Tyson's beds. It reads '11:49 PM'.

If Tyson does not go to bed soon, then the blunette will be a pain to get up at nine in the morning. He needs at least ten hours to function. But he refuses to play the role of babysitter again. He didn't enjoy waking the boys when they had been BladeBreakers, and he wouldn't enjoy it now . . .

Thirty more minutes pass and Kai's prayers are answered.

"Well, I guess we better get going." Ray says, getting to his feet, the end credits rolling on the screen. Max and Diachi soon join Ray in standing. "Mariah should be here about now." he adds as an after thought. Kai had forgotten that she is Ray's partner this year.

"Yeah, I'm kinda tired." Max accords, rubbing at his puffy eyes. Diachi can only bob his head, a yawn his verbal response.

"Alright, guys, I'll see you tomorrow then." Tyson says, watching them off. The three said their goodbyes to Kai, who only gave a slight nod in return, not that they were offended, they know that's how he is and they have long since accepted it, and leave, Ray softly shutting the door behind him.

A moment later Tyson goes to the bathroom with his pajamas in hand and reemerges changed into a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. He pads his way over to the bed, an exhausted expression in-tact, discards his clothes in a heap on the floor which Kai scowls at, and clambers into his bed. He gives Kai a weary glance. "Do you care if I turn off the light?"

"Hn."

Tyson bobs his head and reaches over for the light switch, giving a tug to the golden chain hanging down for easy access. Instantly the room is doused in darkness and Kai gets to his feet, heading to the bathroom to shower and change.

When he comes back out - around fifteen minutes later, a cloud of steam following behind him, he massages his scalp with his towel, drying his slate tresses to the best of his ability, and discards his dirty clothes and towel in a bag to drop off at the dry cleaners tomorrow. He then approaches his bed and pulls back the covers, giving a soft sigh of relief as he settles himself under the sheets, his head resting against the fluff of his pillow.

Then, just as he is about to doze off, he hears a small 'click' sound. He freezes, his eyelids fluttering open to expose shimmery crimson orbs glossy with irritation and disbelief. No way . . .

The seconds tick by . . .

One . . .

Five . . .

Ten . . .

Thirty . . .

"_DAMN YOU BLASTOISE!_"

Kai is going to die or strangle Tyson one before the night is over. Perhaps even destroy that overly priced handheld device - an evil grin appears on his face. "Let me see that for a moment, Tyson . . ."

**_To be continued . . ._**

* * *

**_Well, that's the first chapter! I hope you all take the time to leave a review and tell me your thoughts! I would really appreciate it. _**

**_This is really going to be a bunch of one-shots tied together to form a story. They will be based around each other and their characters will progress as well as their bonds._**

**_Also, I apologize if the beginning is crappy. It's hard for me to write an opening chapter that gets straight to the point like this. I normally like to flesh every-little-thing out bit-by-bit and it tends to be too much, I think. I hate boring everyone with too much detail, but then I worry I don't have enough. What do you all think?_**

**_I hope everyone is in character as well. Honestly, I'm a lot better at writing characters like Tyson (loud-mouths who are overly emotional), because I think I'm more that way and find them easier to relate to - and that's why Kai is so difficult for me to characterize. I'm sure whatever type of character you all think you are more like personality-wise are also easier for you to write! Right? _**

**_I just realized I like to ramble, incessantly so. God, shut it, Amber!_**

**_Suggestions, thoughts/opinions, and constructive criticism would be very appreciated! I'm always up for improving my writing._**

**_P.S.: did anybody else realize how stupid the grammar/spell checker is on here? It just told me that 'take the time' is a complex expression. o.o_**


	2. One Teen 3 Habits

_**Author's Note: Contrary to what the first part of my story said yesterday, they are in Russia. The second half of the first chapter said that, but the first said England. Just wanted to clear that up. Also, thanks for the lovely reviews, favs, and follows! That includes guest reviews as always! They help keep me motivated and to update more quickly!**_

_**Warning: This does have hints/implications or whatever of TyKa. Nothing serious or anything though.**_

* * *

_**- CHAPTER TWO: ONE TEEN 3 HABITS -**_

* * *

**1. He snores. **

Coffee. That's what he needs, Kai concludes, padding across his and Tyson's hotel room in a slump, his eyes blood-shot. Behind him, still in bed, and the source of his state of haze and irritation, lays Tyson, mouth agape, his bed looking more like a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. But it's not his slob appearance that has Kai lacking in the sleep department, no, it's the God awful sound that he makes all hours of the night - it's like a pissed off bear and dying cat possessing the same body. Every time he hears it he twitches and somehow manages to refrain from cramming a dirty pair of underwear into the world champ's throat to silence him once and for all.

He pulls out one of the chairs at the table in the room and plops down, propping his elbows up and cradling his face in his palms. He stifles a building yawn in his throat - as expressing fatigue is something he considers weak - and releases a soft sigh instead. His crimson stare shuffles to the window to his left and he frowns, it's still dark outside. He wonders . . .

He glances at the sole clock in the room. "Three in the morning . . ." he murmurs. That means he has three hours to catch some shut-eye.

"Maxie, whys you gotsa thong on?" Tyson slurs in his sleep, a hand flopping onto his abdomen and flexing as his trimmed nails gently graze the skin there. If it were not for Kai's serious demeanor he would have busted out laughing. Max in a thong? What kind of deranged dreams is Tyson having?

He pauses and shakes his head, a shiver running up the length of his spine.

Never mind.

He'd rather not know. Ever. The things that go through Tyson's head are probably horrid and beyond disturbing.

Nonetheless, Kai needs to get some sleep. His body can function properly with as little as two or three hours of sleep, but not so much on thirty minutes. But how? His eyes narrow in Tyson's direction. He could resort to _that_, he supposes. Not that the dragon will be too happy about it.

* * *

The first thing that registers in Tyson's mind when he awakens, is that it is wayyy colder in the hotel than what he remembers. His face squishes up in discomfort while a tan hand pats around for the heavy comforter that he fell asleep under, only to be met with concrete and something wet. _Huh? **That's** not right._ The floor isn't made of concrete, or else he would say that he fell out of the bed again. He does have a tendency to that back home.

He sits up and rubs at his face, blinking to clear his vision that is overwhelmed by the bright light pounding down on him. When his eyes adjust he realizes immediately where he is at: the balcony. The snow-covered balcony of his and Kai's hotel room to be exact. He sits up, scrambling frantically onto his feet, his eyes peering inside to where Kai is sleeping peacefully. His eyes narrow, this has to be _his_ doing.

Tyson rarely sleeps walk. If ever. Which means only one possibility that comes in the form of dual-toned hair and a smoldering gaze.

The world champion reaches for the door and gives a hard tug, nearly toppling over when the door remains where it is. His blue orbs widen. It's locked. He gapes in disbelief and shivers, his face turning red. "DAMN IT KAIIIII! LET ME INNNNN!"

On the inside, laying with his back away from the door, eyelids lightly closed, a decently rested Kai allows a contented smirk to play on his lips. The pounding on the glass door continues as does a whiny, "Ka-aiiii!". His smirk grows._ Take **that** Tyson._

Kai: 2

Tyson: 0

* * *

**2. He takes food off another's (Kai's) plate.**

Kai has always known that Tyson loves food. To be exact, if he were to sum up a majority of Tyson's thoughts in order it would be: Food. Beyblade. Food. Food. Beyblade. Food. Sleep. As such, Kai has always trusted the younger teen's choices in cuisine when calling up room service for them to indulge in. This is no exception.

The two world-class bladers are currently preoccupying the sole couch in their hotel, Kai already dressed for the day, while Tyson is clad in nothing but a loose blue and white striped tank and a pair of gray sweats, his beloved baseball cap still on his bed. In both of their hands is a plate, their eyes focused on the television. Kai's dish is his favorite, Basturma - or basically marinated beef cubes with basil and some others things - and Tyson's is Kazakh Noodles (extra ketchup added).

Kai isn't particularly interested in whatever cartoon Tyson is watching - though he does wonder how the other is, when he has no ability to speak in Russian whatsoever - and silently eats his meal, giving the occasional grunt when Tyson babbles about something. That's when **_it_ **happens. Kai freezes as Tyson's fork interferes and quickly steals a beef cube from his plate, raising up to the younger teen's mouth before being yanked off by his teeth and lips.

The older blader twitches and shoots Tyson a heated glare. _How dare he?_ He ordered enough food to last three days! Yet, here he is stealing from Kai's plate?! Normally Tyson would ask if he were finished before taking any leftovers. But now . . . He releases a throaty growl. Since when did he get this confident? This comfortable with him? Hmm, probably the last world championship actually. Still yet, that's besides the point.

Tyson acts obliviously, his oceanic gaze heavily lidded in pleasure as his lips smack together, openly enjoying the new flavor in his mouth. It only furthers Kai's irritation. That was_ his_ meat to enjoy.

Therefore: "The hell, Granger?"

Tyson opens one of his eyes, glances over at his rival, and gulps down _Kai's_ beef cube. Kai's seething glare intensifies and Tyson only responds with an innocent expression, a lopsided grin appearing on his face. "Whaa?" he asks slowly with a casual shrug, "It takes you like, foreverrr to eat, dude. I figured you wouldn't get around to that piece."

Kai twitches. "If that's how you want to play . . ." he grounds out, quickly leaning over and stealing the sole roll off of Tyson's plate. Tyson gapes at him. The bread, cereal, rice, and pasta is one of his favorite categories on the food pyramid. Meat is obviously Kai's. _Payback's a bitch, eh, Tyson?_

"Kaaaiii!" Tyson whines, eyeing his roll warily for a moment before shifting his azure stare onto the other's face. "You better not." he warns as Kai slowly, _agonizingly_, lifts the roll up to his parting lips. Kai watches the younger blader's fidgeting from the corner of his eye. He pauses.

"Or what?" he inquires, waiting patiently for Tyson's response. When a few seconds tick by - and there's no response other than Tyson's pleading gaze - as he had forgotten to order a basket of rolls and that Kai has the only one in his possession now - he opens his mouth further, the chunk of golden, gooey, tasty bread just centimeters from blessing his tongue.

"NO!" Tyson wails, lunging onto Kai, knocking them both over the chair arm and onto the floor, food flying and sticky noodles ending up in their hair. Kai gives Tyson a look of disbelief, completely pink with the realization that Tyson is straddling him.

"Get off, idiot." he snaps.

"Not until I get my roll back!" he hisses, reaching for the delicious food, his tongue darting forth to brush his lips with anticipation. Kai is tempted to just hand it over, because he feels awkward at the close proximity, but knowing Tyson, he will brag if he gets the food back so easily and will continue to steal off Kai's plate. He can't have that now.

As such, he slings his hand out of reach, resulting in Tyson using his left arm to pin Kai's right forearm to the ground while straining to desperately claw and reach for the roll with his right. Kai smirks and allows his hand to move just close enough for Tyson's fingertips to skim across the baked bread's soft surface, causing the world champ to release an irritated huff.

"What the heck is going on here?!" a shrill - and familiar - voice demands. Kai and Tyson freeze, inches away from one another's faces, sapphire and crimson stares both darting to the door of their room, only to see Kenny, Hilary, Rei, and Mariah standing before them, all four with surprised expressions adoring their visages.

Tyson settles back on his rump, which just so happens to be on Kai's hips, and crosses his arms, a noodle dropping from his hair onto his shoulder. "Well, Mr. Sourpuss, stole my roll! I had to get it back!" The other teens glance at Kai, even more surprised at the stoic teen's odd behavior.

Kai, seeing this, comes to his reputation's defense quickly, shoving Tyson onto the floor. He sits up, slants his eyes, and grumbles, "If you hadn't decided that my plate was suddenly yours first . . ."

"Psh, you never finish your food anyways, and that meat looked killer -"

"Alright, enough, you two have made a mess of this room!" Hilary quips, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "I'd expect this out of Tyson, but not you too, Kai." she adds with a frown. Kai rolls his eyes.

"Hn."

"Now gimme my roll, wet blanket!" Tyson interjects, tackling his rival back to the floor once more.

"Not in your dreams, Granger."

"I want it!"

"Too bad."

"Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiii!"

Mariah blinks and points at the two, asking: "Are these two_ always_ like this?" She has always pictured Kai to be a cold-hearted bastard. But to see him so playful - it's unnerving by all means.

Ray also blinks and gives a shake of his head. "Tyson, yes. Kai, er, no."

Suddenly a loud crash is heard as the two roll into the nearby food cart, spilling the remnants onto the floor beside them. "Nice going, dumb ass." Kai hisses.

"Can-it, sourpuss!"

"CUT IT OUT - THE BOTH OF YOU!"

* * *

**3. He's unobservant.**

After announcing the start of the tournament together on international television (more like Tyson talked, Kai glared), the two headed back to their room and awaited their turn. Kai went to take a shower while Tyson decided to take their dirty clothes and drop them off at the dry cleaners to pick up after their beybattle.

Kai emerges from the bathroom, successfully steaming up the hotel room like a sauna, his hair heavy with water, and a towel draped loosely around his lean hips. Tyson yawns from the bed, sits up, and adjusts his baseball cap. He arches an eyebrow at his teammate as he searches through his suitcase at the foot of his bed for an outfit. He wonders why he's searching in there, he just took out the dirty clothes he had shoved in their yesterday . . .

Wait. His eyes widen. He had taken everything from the suitcase in his haste. Certainly that does not mean that he took all of Kai's clothes, right? If so, he only packed like six outfits for the duration of the tournament - not that they necessarily need anymore than that, but still.

Finally, Kai's back straightens out, his shoulders stiff. "Tyson," he begins, "where did you put my clothes?"

Tyson gulps. Apparently he has. Which means that Kai has no clothes for their beybattle in thirty minutes. Kai glares in annoyance when he does not answer. "Tyson . . ." he growls. The younger laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head, and leaning against the headboard of the bed.

"Wellll, I mighthaveaccidentallytakenallofyourclothestothedry cleaners."

Kai's scowl intensifies. "Repeat that. But more slowly."

Tyson nods, swallows, wrings his hands, and repeats his words, "I, uh, might have accidentally, you know, taken all of your clothes to the dry cleaners? Heh, kind of funny, right? Heh."

"How. The. Hell. Is that funny, Tyson?!" Kai blares furiously. Tyson swears he could have felt a harsh breeze from the force behind the words. He then adds, through clenched teeth:"I have nothing appropriate to wear for the match now."

Tyson lays frozen in spot momentarily, wracking his brain for an ideas. When the ultimate one comes to mind. "I've got it, dude!" he shouts, leaping off the bed and landing on the bottoms of his tennis shoes. "You can wear something of mine!"

Kai resists the urge to blow up and turns away, taking a moment to calm himself. Tyson has an odd sense of style, one that completely contradicts his own. Like now for instance, Tyson has dressed himself in a gray pair of those tight-fitting jeans he likes; the regular pair of blue, red, yellow, and white tennis shoes that he has worn out easy enough, and on his torso, an overly bright yellow t-shirt underneath a red duffle-coat.

He sighs, crosses his arms, and twists back around to face his object of frustration that has a look of hopeful concern about him. He won't like this, but: "It looks like I have no choice . . . let me see your suitcase."

Tyson nods and reaches for said object on his bed, then approaches Kai and hands it over. The dual-haired teen snatches it out of his awaiting grasp and stomps into the bathroom, nearly losing his towel in the process. Tyson snickers and plops back down on his surprisingly plush bed.

About ten minutes pass and Kai finally comes out of the bathroom. Tyson instantly sits up and grins at the sight before him. Kai is wearing a yellow t-shirt, a pair of his tight-fitted dark wash jeans, and his own black and white trainers. Unfortunately, Tyson had accidentally picked up Kai's black pea-coat and beloved scarf in his rush as well, leaving Kai to wear Tyson's maroon hued trench coat.

Kai tugs uncomfortably at the tight pants (which are a tad too-short and come up just above his ankles) and glares harshly at the other blader. "I swear I will get you back for this." he seethes, walking past Tyson with a light shove. Tyson only grins in response.

"Come on, dude. You don't look_ that_ bad! It's nice to see you in some color besides black, blue, and purple, anyways." he clucks, following Kai out the door of their hotel. "Besides," he adds thoughtfully, "we match! Our team colors could even be yellow and red!" Kai shivers.

The thought makes him sick enough to puke rainbows.

"Kai! Tyson!" a feminine voice calls from behind them. The two pause and turn to see Kenny and Hilary running towards them, their arms flailing in an attempt to flag the two bladers down. Once the two reach them, Hilary asks: "Er, what are you wearing Kai?"

Tyson snickers and Kenny merely gives a blank expression. Kai shoots Tyson an accusatory stare, answering, "This idiot here took all of my clothes to the dry cleaners and I had nothing to wear."

"Hey! I'm not an idiot!"

"Could have fooled me." Hilary interjects with a smirk. "Speaking of which, you need to be doing your homework - both of you! - while we're away!"

Kenny bobs his head. "Just because we're going to be out of school for most of the year, doesn't mean that we can neglect our studies."

"Oh, gee, shut it, Chief, I don't have time to worry about school right now." Tyson grumbles with a roll of his eyes and a dismissive wave of his hand.

"And this is why you will continue to be at the bottom of the class . . ."

* * *

"It's great that we all won our matches." Max chimes, sitting down in-between Ray and Diachi, Mariah to Ray's left. The three peer at him and nod.

"Yeah, we took out F-Dynasty pretty fast." Mariah purrs as Max hands her a small bag of popcorn (which is what he had went to retrieve in the first place). "The look on Julia's face was priceless. He-he." she adds with a chuckle, imagining the defeated, horrified look on her rival's pretty face.

"Yeah, well me and Max had the most exciting match of the day!" Diachi blares with a mouthful of popcorn and Pepsi, spewing the drink on the back of the person's head sitting in front of him. They turn and glare. "Sorry!"

"You all competed against newcomers," Mariah points out with a shake of her head. "Nothing to be too surprised about. You and Max are both world class-bladers. To be knocked out this early would be an embarrassment. Especially since you and Tyson are the defending world champs, Diachi."

"Speaking of Tyson," Ray says, "his and Kai's match is next. They're going to be a powerhouse of a team to defeat."

Max bobs his head in agreement while taking a sip of his drink. When finishes and lowers his cup back into its holder, he says: "Those two and Brooklyn are considered the top three best bladers_ in the world_. Brooklyn and Garland are going to be one of the top teams too."

"Ming-Ming and Mystel, too. After all, Ming-Ming is the best female blader according to the statistics." Mariah adds matter-of-factually. She then leans towards Ray and loops arms with him, a mischievous glint in her amber irises. "But I think we can take them, don't you, partnerrr?"

Ray gulps and blushes as he realizes that Mariah's lips are just _mere inches_ from his own. "Y-Yeah, we've got this." he chokes out. Diachi sighs.

"Get a room you two!"

The two open their mouths to reply, when DJ Jazzman steps back out into the beystadium, the fans roaring with applause and shouts as he makes his way to the center platform. He climbs up onto the three feet high level where the beydish is still underneath and holds his microphone up to his mouth. Apparently they have decided to change the beydish this quarter.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen! Our next match is one that has been eagerly anticipated all day!" he screeches into the mic. "Tyson and Kai of the G-Revolutions versus Tala and Ian of the Blitzkrieg Boys!"

More applauds follow and before long AJ Topper and Brad Best take over the announcing the team's stats and adding some humorous commentary along the way. Max and Ray are practically raised in their seats, awaiting anxiously for Kai and Tyson to emerge from one of the four corridors in the stadium.

The first to appear are Tala and Ian, coming from the left most corridor with Spencer and Bryan not too far behind them. A moment later, Kai and Tyson, along with Hilary and Kenny, pace out of the corridor positioned across from their seats. When they see Kai, all of them ask at in unison: "What the heck/hell is Kai wearing?!"

"Er, his pants look a little uncomfortable." Mariah points out, noticing how the material on his jeans cling tightly to his toned thighs and showcasing a very private, but undeniable, package. Her cheeks go bright pink and she buries face between her palms with a squeal. _Damn teenage hormones!_

"His shirt isn't faring much better." Ray comments, eyeing Kai's form on the large four-screened television that hangs from the ceiling. With each step the Russian's yellow shirt lifts, revealing nicely defined hip bones. It makes Ray want to go do some sit-ups. He glares at the popcorn in his lap. Ah, he'll worry about his physique later.

"Eh, I guess he can wear whatever he wants, but I say he probably lost a bet against Tyson or something." Max says with a shrug. "I just can't wait for this battle!"

"Same here!" Diachi blares with a fist pump. He isn't much for fashion, and he likes the whole ankle-exposed-belly-showing look anyways. It's about time someone on his team saw how much more free you feel without such constricting clothes.

All four position themselves at the beydish, wearing similar expressions of determination as the floor splits to reveal an icy dish (nothing spectacular really apart from the colorful lights reflecting from its shiny surface like a disco ball). "It's funny that we'll be the ones taking out the world champ and the runner-up." Ian remarks, holding out his launcher.

"Ha," Tyson says, "I'd like to see you try, shrimp!"

Ian glowers in response. Tyson internally smirks. _Serves him right_.

"What's with the whole ketchup-mustard combination, huh, Kai?" Tala inquires in a mocking tone. Just a ploy to distract no-doubt. "I thought you'd leave that look to Tyson."

"I actually like those clothes, thank you very much!" Tyson snips, holding out Dragoon with a glare, his feet spread three feet apart.

"Are you ready?!" DJ Jazzman hollers into his mic. The four bob their heads in confirmation. "Alright, three, two, one, go shoot!"

Up in the stands, Max and Diachi are on their feet, whooping and hollering for Tyson and Kai. It has already turned out to be heated battle with Kai pushing Ian out on his launch alone and both he and Tyson taking turns wailing on Tala's blade. But Tala is no pushover and manages to turn Kai and Tyson's power against them, much like Max normally does when facing blades with higher strength than his own.

But it all ends when Kai and Tyson combine their powers to make a fiery tornado and launch Tala's blade in the stratosphere, successfully knocking him from the dish and ending the match.

Cheers ensue and the cameras zoom in on Tyson and Kai - just as the rear in Kai's jeans _split_, revealing a colorful pair of baby blue boxers with small images of Ichigo Kurosaki from Bleach staining the surface of the silky material. Max, Ray, Diachi, and Mariah all drop their jaws, as do many surrounding them.

Silence fills the entire beystadium and some fan-girls even faint from massive nosebleeds.

After the seconds tick by, Ray breaks the silence. "Well, _that's_ embarrassing."

Kai: 2

Tyson: 1

_**To be continued . . .**_

* * *

**_That's all for now. What did you think?_**

**_I really had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Though, I do admit, Kai's character is hard for me to write. Gah. I don't want him to say too much! It's hard. But then again, Tyson is good at having one-sided conversations. Hah._**

**_Please drop a review if you have the time!_**

**_Until next time then! _**


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